A Piece of Texas Trilogy

by Peggy Moreland

  Busy shaking the pages of the letter she held, she shook her head. “No. This is something that my dad sent home to my mother while he was in Vietnam. Sam says it may be valuable.”

  “Is that why he wants it? Because it’s worth money?”

  She tossed aside the letter and picked up another. “No. It’s actually a friend of his who wants it. Or rather, his friend’s wife. Her father served in the same unit as my dad. She has a piece of paper, too. It’s like a puzzle we have to put together.”

  “Cool!”

  Obviously excited at the prospect of finding treasure, he shook out the envelope’s contents, examined the pages, tossed them aside, grabbed another.

  Leah picked up a letter but frowned when she noticed that the handwriting on the front was different from the others. Curious, she pulled out the letter enclosed and began to scan. She’d read only two lines when she flung out a hand and grabbed Craig’s arm. “Listen to this,” she said in disbelief, then read,

  “Dear Helen,

  We’ve never met, but I would imagine your husband has mentioned me a time or two. My name is Larry Blair—or Pops, as the guys in our unit call me. T.J. made me promise that I’d write to you if anything should happen to him. It grieves me that I have to keep that promise now, but I can’t let T.J. down. I gave him my word.

  The day before T.J. was shot, we lost a guy in our unit. Buddy Crandall. We were caught in a battle we couldn’t win and had decided to make a run for it. Several of our men went down prior to the decision being made. We managed to drag two of them out with us, but we couldn’t get to Buddy. We knew he was dead and there was nothing we could do for him, but it broke our hearts to leave a friend behind. T.J. took it particularly hard.

  The next morning, when the chopper came to retrieve the bodies, T.J.’s thoughts were on Buddy’s family. He knew, we all did, that since Buddy’s body wasn’t recovered, he would be listed as Missing in Action rather than as Killed in Action. That bothered T.J., as he was worried about Buddy’s family and how not having him to bury would affect them. It was then that T.J. made me promise to write this letter should the same thing happen to him.

  I saw T.J. go down. You don’t need to know the details of how he died. I can spare you that much pain. But please know that he fought bravely to the bitter end. And know, too, that if it had been within our power, we would have brought T.J. back with us. He’d have done the same for any one of the rest of us, and we would’ve done it for him if it had been possible. No soldier ever wants to leave a friend on the field.

  Along with this letter, I send you my heartfelt sympathy, as well as that of the rest of our unit. T.J. was a good man, a good friend and was never shy about telling us how much he loved his family.

  Sincerely,

  Larry Blair”

  Leah sat in silence, staring down at the handwritten words, unable to believe her mother had continued to hope her husband would come after having read Larry Blair’s letter.

  “I don’t get it.”

  Having forgotten about Craig, Leah reached to squeeze his hand. “What, sweetheart?”

  “Why would Grandma keep telling everybody he was going to come home when the letter proves he was dead?”

  She gulped back tears and shook her head. “Hope. She loved him too much to give up believing he’d come home someday.”

  “That’s just stupid,” Craig muttered and picked up another envelope to examine.

  They worked together for almost an hour before Craig let out a whoop.

  “I found it!” he cried.

  Leah dropped the letter she was reading and stared. “Are you sure?”

  “It has to be.” He examined the piece of paper closely. “There’s words on it, but they don’t make any sense.”

  He pushed the paper at Leah. “See if you can figure it out.”

  Afraid it would crumble if handled overmuch, Leah laid the scrap of paper on the floor in front of her. “Doesn’t make sense to me either,” she murmured as she studied the partial words fragmented by the tears. Frowning, she turned the piece of paper over. “But that’s my father’s signature.”

  She popped to her feet. “Call your mother. Tell her that you’re going on a little trip with me.”

  He jumped up, too, to run after her. “Where are we going?”

  “To fulfill a promise Sam made to his friend.”

  Leah smiled as she watched Craig play with the baby. Stretched out on his stomach on the floor, he lay head-to-head with the infant, spinning dials and punching buttons on a learning toy to make the baby laugh.

  “Careful, Craig,” she warned as he tried to persuade the baby to push one of the buttons. “Remember, he’s just a baby.”

  She started to rise to intervene, and Mack placed a hand on her arm, stopping her. “Leave ’em be. They’re doing fine.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked doubtfully. “Craig’s never been around a baby before.”

  “They aren’t as fragile as they look.”

  A shrill squeal had Leah whipping her head back to the two, her heart in her throat.

  Mack chuckled. “That’s Johnny Mack’s newest form of expression. Means he’s having a good time.”

  Leah sank back weakly against the sofa. “If you say so.”

  “Craig’s good with babies. Most boys his age would be bored to death by now.”

  She smiled sadly as she watched Craig dab a cloth at the drool on the infant’s chin. “He always wanted a brother or sister.”

  “Sam told me about your brother. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Her heart twisted at the mention of Sam, then twisted again at the thought of Kevin. “Thank you. Losing him was hard on us all. Especially Craig.”

  Mack turned his gaze to study Craig. “He seems to be doing okay. Kids are tough. Resilient. He’ll come out of this okay.”

  She glanced his way. “You sound so sure.”

  He smiled and patted her knee. “The voice of experience.”

  She stared, remembering the stories Sam had told her about his wild friend and the half brother who was responsible for turning Sam’s life around. “You’re Ty’s half brother?”

  He lifted a brow. “You know Ty?”

  She shook her head. “No. Sam told me about him. How you were always bailing the two of them out of trouble.”

  “Still am. Or was,” he amended.

  Understanding the defeat she heard in his voice, she laid a hand over his. “You may have failed with Ty, but you certainly made an impression on Sam. He credits you with saving his life.”

  He smiled fondly. “Sam was a good kid. A little wild, but he had a good heart. His parents are to blame for the problems he had. They were so busy fighting they forgot they had a son to raise.”

  Leah glanced at Craig, knowing that her nephew suffered similarly. His mother was so consumed with her own grief she never recognized that her son was grieving, too, and needed her comfort. As a result, he’d looked for attention elsewhere and found it with a group of thugs.

  But she’d seen a change in him recently, she reminded herself. He laughed more, showed more enthusiasm for life, stayed closer to home rather than hanging out with his friends. “Thanks to Sam,” she murmured, knowing it was Sam who was responsible for the difference.

  “Excuse me?”

  She glanced at Mack and dropped her gaze, embarrassed that she’d spoken her thoughts out loud. “Sorry. I was thinking about Sam, the difference he’s made in Craig’s life.” She looked up at Mack. “It’s because of you. What you did for Sam, Sam did for Craig.”

  “What goes around, comes around,” Mack stated prophetically, then smiled. “Sam was always hanging around our house. He was like a brother to me. I worried about him.” He shook his head sadly. “In fact, I still do.”

  Her stomach knotted, remembering where Sam was, what he was doing. The danger he might be in. “I wish he hadn’t gone.”

  He gave her knee a reassuring pat. “He’ll be all right. Sam knows ho
w to take care of himself.” He shook his head. “But I wasn’t talking about his profession. Sam’s struggling with a decision right now. Trying to decide whether to take a desk job or remain in the field. It’s a tough one for a man like him to make. He’s not one to sit on his hands. When he sees a problem, he’d rather be in on the action to resolve it than sitting in a meeting discussing it.”

  “Then why is he considering changing?” Leah asked in confusion.

  “Sam could probably explain that best.” He opened his hands. “I’ve never had any military experience, so I don’t know that I completely understand it myself. But from what Sam has told me, it seems if a man remains in the field too long, he begins to lose his edge, take unnecessary chances. It becomes a game to him, one in which he’s constantly raising the stakes in order to achieve the same adrenalin high.”

  Leah stared, wondering if that was why Kevin had volunteered for duty in Iraq. He’d enlisted in the service shortly after his eighteenth birthday and had remained in the Army until his death. His assignments had taken him all over the world. Korea. The Philippines. Japan.

  Had he grown bored? she wondered. Was that why he’d requested a tour in Iraq? Was it the danger he’d sought and not the need to prove something, as she’d always believed?

  She gulped, unsure of the answer.

  “But I think there’s more bothering Sam than just a career decision,” Mack went on to say. “I believe he’s questioning his life right now. His lack of roots. Lack of family. He’s thirty-four years old, an age when most men have settled down with a wife, a home and one-point-five children.

  “He’s had an exciting life, traveled the world. But I think he’s beginning to realize there’s something missing, something only a family can provide.”

  He tipped his head to peer down at Leah. “I thought he’d found that with you. From the things he told me, I was sure that he’d finally found the woman who made him want to settle down, quit thumbing his nose at danger. Was I wrong?”

  She dropped her gaze. “I care for Sam. I do. But I’m not cut out to be a soldier’s wife. I couldn’t stand living with the fear that he might not come home someday. I’ve lost two people I love to the service. I won’t lose any more.”

  “Where did they go?”

  She looked up at him in confusion. “My father and brother?”

  “No, your feelings for Sam. Did he take them with him when he left? Did you flush them down the toilet? Throw them in the trash?”

  She drew back with a frown, wondering if he’d lost his mind. “Of course not. I still care for him.”

  “Then what does it matter if he’s with you or halfway around the world? If you love him, you’ll feel the loss either way.”

  Eight

  After completing his ten-day mission in Vietnam, Sam flew directly to Washington, D.C., where he was to meet with his commander and file his report. If he’d had his way, the plane would’ve flown directly to Texas. Specifically Tyler, Texas. The pilot wouldn’t even have had to worry about landing. Sam would’ve jumped to save himself the time a landing would’ve required.

  Soon enough, he promised himself and forced himself to concentrate on the report he was giving.

  “Four bodies recovered, possibly more,” he told his commander. “The lab guys can verify the number and provide names, depending on the availability of dental records and possibly DNA.”

  “So our contact was correct in telling us we’d find bodies in that location.”

  “Yes, sir,” Sam confirmed. He folded his beret and laid it across his thigh. “The local officials were cooperative. Not helpful,” he clarified. “But they didn’t attempt to obstruct our examination of the area in question.”

  The commander nodded solemnly. “The best we can expect under the circumstances.” He frowned, considering. “Any chance more bodies were buried there?”

  “In that particular location?”

  The commander nodded.

  “I suppose it’s possible, but our search was methodic and the equipment we used was the best technology has to offer. I don’t see how we could’ve missed finding anything more than what we brought home.”

  The commander gave his chin a decisive nod. “Your opinion is good enough for me. Your record speaks for itself. You’re thorough and have the reputation of sticking with a task to its end. Which brings up another subject.” Rearing back in his chair, the commander templed his fingers before his chest and studied Sam over their tips. “Your reenlistment. Have you made your decision concerning your assignment?”

  “Yes, sir, I have.”

  When Sam offered nothing more, the commander said impatiently, “Well? Do you plan to share your decision or keep it to yourself?”

  “I’ve put in sixteen years, sir, and I think it’s time I returned to civilian life.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” the commander said with regret. “Our country needs good men like you.”

  “Thank you, sir. I’ve enjoyed my time in the service, and I’m grateful for the knowledge and experience I’ve gained. Hopefully I’ll be able to find a way to continue to serve my country as a civilian.”

  “I’m sure you will. If I can be of assistance in helping you find your calling, let me know.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  The commander stood, signaling the end of the meeting. “So where are you headed now?”

  Sam stood, too. “Home, sir. To Texas.” He hesitated a moment, knowing the favor he was about to ask broke protocol and probably every other military regulation.

  “Something on your mind, Forrester?” the commander asked.

  Sam nodded slowly. “Yes, sir, there is. One of the sets of dog tags found belonged to the father of a friend of mine. I’d appreciate it if you would allow me to personally deliver them to her and give her the news that her father’s body was recovered.”

  The commander squared his shoulders. “You know as well as I do that information is considered classified until the bodies have been positively ID’d.”

  “Yes, sir, I do. But this family’s suffering exceeds those normally associated with an MIA. They need closure, and I would like to be the one to give it to them.”

  “I’m sorry, Forrester, but I can’t allow that. Everything that was collected during the exhumation was shipped directly to the lab for identification.”

  Sam ducked his head. “Uh, not everything, sir. I have the dog tags that were collected. Each set was bagged on-site and properly marked with location and placed in my pack for safekeeping.”

  “Your orders were to collect all items found during the exhumation and escort them home in the container provided.”

  Sam felt a trickle of sweat work its way down his spine, knowing what he’d done had defied a direct order and could result in a reprimand…or worse, if the commander chose to pursue it.

  “Yes, sir. I’m aware of that. But considering the sensitive nature of our findings and the hostility that still surrounds our presence in some areas of Vietnam, I thought it best to keep the tags on my person.”

  Scowling, the commander rounded his desk and walked with Sam to the door. “Those tags are the property of the United States Army and fall under its jurisdiction. I order you to turn them over to proper authorities ASAP.”

  All hope of presenting Leah with the closure she needed drained from Sam. “Yes, sir. I’ll take care of it as soon I leave this office.”

  The commander stopped at the doorway and shot Sam a sideways glance. “You said four bodies were found?”

  “As best as we could determine. Possibly more.”

  “And how many sets of tags were recovered?”

  “Three.”

  “Were the tags positioned in such a way that you were able to determine which body each belonged to?”

  “Yes, sir. Without question. We digitally recorded each find before moving so much as a grain of sand.”

  “So if a set of tags were to disappear or become lost, it wouldn’t effect the resul
ts of your mission or lessen the chances of identifying the bodies?”

  A smile began to spread across Sam’s face as he realized what the commander was trying to tell him. “No, sir. Not at all.”

  Leah had thought she would feel better after giving a copy of the torn piece of paper to Addy McGruder—Mack’s wife—thus fulfilling Sam’s promise to his friend…as well as the request he’d made of Leah. But, if anything, her trip to Lampasas had left her feeling more miserable and confused than ever.

  It wasn’t that she hadn’t liked Sam’s friends. She’d enjoyed visiting with the McGruders, and Craig had had a ball playing with their baby, which had been an unexpected bonus for him.

  The cause of her discontent was something Mack had said, a question he’d posed while Addy had been preparing their dinner.

  Then what does it matter if he’s with you or halfway around the world? If you love him, you’ll feel the loss either way.

  She had wanted to rail at him, tell him that it did matter, that he had no right to make such a statement when he’d never suffered as she had.

  Thankfully she had bitten her tongue and kept her opinion to herself, which had turned out to be a good thing, as she’d learned later from Addy that Mack had lost his first wife and his son in a car wreck.

  Knowing Mack had suffered similarly hadn’t diminished her own grief, but it had made her think.

  She loved Sam. She didn’t doubt her feelings for him for a minute. And she missed him. Oh, God, how she missed him. But as hard as she had tried, she couldn’t think of a way for them to be together and both of them be happy.

  No closer to a resolution than she had been two weeks earlier, when she’d made the trip to Lampasas, she opened another one of the boxes she’d hauled down from the attic. She’d decided to go through each and every one, catalog its contents and repackage it in something more substantial than the ragged boxes her mother had kept the material in.

  She shook her head sadly at her mother’s harum-scarum filing system. After days of attempting to find some method to her mother’s madness, she’d finally given up and decided to develop her own. She glanced around the room at the reams of paper stacked on every available surface and sputtered a laugh. Of course, she’d destroyed her den in the process. It seemed Leah, the queen of organization, had finally toppled from her thrown.